Work Text:
I was sitting in that stupid waiting room for far too long. I stared at the clock hanging on the white wall, nervously tapping my right foot on that old and washed-out floor.
My physiotherapist is very late. The session was supposed to begin half an hour ago, I thought snorting and looking around listlessly.
"Tomlinson?" an elderly lady behind a desk called me.
"Yes?" I got ready to walk up to the torture room.
I could not sit at home playing Fifa that fucking day? No, I had to listen to that asshole, Zayn, and smash me up against a fucking wall with the skateboard, mentally cursed at the thought.
"Dr. Styles is waiting for you." she said.
"Styles? There must be a mistake. I have an appointment with Dr. Horan!"
"I know, kid. Dr. Horan, however, is due to return to Ireland for a family problem. Dr. Styles will be his replacement for the entire week. He's very good, I assure you." se smiled.
"Oh well ... Thanks, usually study?" I asked.
The woman nodded, giving me another gentle smile that, with little desire, I returned.
I walked slowly along the road that I knew by heart, and he would take me to pain.
Yes, each physiotherapy session was accompanied by my screams, because of my extensive side that did not want to stop hurting.
For this reason, every time, I went into that room more nervous than ever.
And that was how I felt at that moment, nervous and angry. I did not want to get an hour massage. With a slobbering old then. Oh yeah, I was more than convinced that the replacement of Dr. Horan was a wizened old man, nasty and smelly.
And I continued to think of it even when I arrived at the front door and knocked only to warn of my presence.
I opened slowly without even lifting my head as I headed to the usual bed ready to take off my shoes and sweatpants.
Perfect addition to making me wait half an hour in the waiting room, that other jerk is again delayed, I began to think, but someone interrupted me coughing, making me jump with fright.
"Wha–“ the words died in my throat at the exact moment when my eyes met green and large belong to a boy who must have been about my age. He seemed tall, monstrously tall.
What struck me most, however, in addition to emeralds which lined the sides of the nose slightly disproportionate to his face, were a mass of curly hair kept at bay by a red bandana.
I longed to snatch it away and put my hands in that chocolate, brown mess. They looked soft.
"Hello." I managed to say continuing to stare at him and then pausing, enraptured, on the fleshy lips shaped heart yelling kiss me, kiss me. And God, I'd gladly do it.
"Hello." He smiled at me and "Louis, right?" He added.
I nodded, unable to make a meaningful sentence. All I could think was that boy, panting and sweaty, beneath me. O above, it doesn't really matter.
"Well, I'm Dr. Harry Styles but you can call me Harry." He pointed to the bed, a clear invitation to undress to begin the session. Too bad my head was fantasizing about another kind of invitation. Too bad.
"Harry, ok." I replied embar- embarrassed? And since I, Louis Tomlinson, I let someone put me in embarrassment? Sacrilege.
I snorted and calmly took off my shoes and sweatpants disorderly resting them on the chair next to the bed.
I lay down and began playing with the hem of my white t-shirt nervously.
Harry was studying me with a strange smile on his face and, for whatever absurd reason, I blushed becoming the same color of his bandana.
Well, I thought, very well.
"So, Louis, how did you hurt?" He asked after approaching me.
"Well," I began while he placed his hands on my thigh and started massage it. A grin appeared on my face and "Skateboard." I said.
He looked at me curious as he wanted to know some more.
"Oh." Is all that came out of his mouth as his hands moved careful on my leg that, for months, didn't make me sleep at night. Fuck you, Zayn, I cursed and tried to hide another grimace of pain but, hey, it wasn't easy.
"I know it hurts but it will pass soon!" He smiled at me like you do with the kids when they fall from the swing and peel one knee. I found him strangely adorable and mentally gave myself a slap to banish that thought away, but suddenly I found myself face my erotic fantasies. How could I go from thinking to imagine that it was adorable as he took my cock in his mouth? Really good question.
"Yes, of course" I said, "you're not the one under torture!"
He laughed, and I was enchanted his laughter was a sweet and melodious sound in complete contrast with his husky voice and tremendously sexy.
He continued for an indefinite time and, against all my expectations, followed suit.
"Sorry Harry, sometimes I act like a child!"
"Don't worry, if you'll be good and resist the pain for a while, you can have a lollipop." he said kidding.
"What kind of lollipop?" I said deliberately, maliciously.
"Strawberry?" he smiled.
Oh.
"I don't like strawberry, Harry." I complained.
"Orange?" He continued, while his hands were dangerously close to massage the groin area.
I began to sweat because, fuck, the fabric that covered my penis had become uncomfortably tight and, of course, Harry noticed.
"No, not even orange." I said in a sharp tone.
"So what do you like, Louis?" He was definitely provoking, not that it bothered me, after I had started, no?
"Mh" I pretended to think about it and "cream, yes!" Decreed biting my lower lip, which does not pass unnoticed in the eyes of the hedgehog.
He ran once again his hands on my thigh, squeezing the grip just when, with ease, he found himself put two fingers on the fabric of my boxers.
I gasped at the contact, and I let out a little to wonder.
"We have the same tastes, Louis." He murmured.
"I see." I said relying on his elbows to aim my blue eyes in his.
I smiled satisfied and stretched out a hand to place it, lightly, on his head pushing up towards my intimacy.
In response, Harry grinned and gestured dry he took off my boxers, freeing my erection impatient and dissatisfied.
"I didn't thought you were so unprofessional, Harry." I played.
"It's not my fault, you're equipped with all this erotic charge," he said placing his lips over the glans blowing on it, giving me such a strong shudder ran through my whole body.
"And not only that." He added, opening up the lips to fully embrace my excitement as if to choke.
He hollows his cheeks and began to move his head quickly. I shook more hands between his curls and I accompanied his movements panting obscenely.
"Harry." I gasped.
He looked up and jammed it, licking the penis from the bottom upwards, stimulating, with his hands, even the testicles threatening to explode.
He continued for a time, in my head, it seemed endless, and I found myself, with my back arched, whisper his name.
I didn't want it to end it all so I forced him to give up my erection and pulled him towards me, making him get on my body.
He gripped my hips with his knees before jumping headlong on my lips in a chaste kiss disjointed and that he had nothing pure, not even the verses that came out of our mouths.
Without losing touch I put my hand on my erection and went to his opening.
I bit his lip, and continued to pant loudly, he began to descend on the object of his desires.
He didn't complain when, without even giving him time to get used to the intrusion, I began to quickly move my pelvis into him, indeed, seemed to appreciate my unkindness.
He put a hand on his sex to pleasure his self while biting, sucking and licking a flap of skin between my neck and shoulder, leaving a purple mark to indicate his passing. I would certainly remember.
I violently pushed his hips up and down to help the movements rough and tired of my pelvis.
I continued for two minutes before caming inside his ass causing him the same reaction on my abdomen, sweaty and sticky now.
He collapsed without too much trouble on me, resting his head on my shoulder while we were trying, together, to regulate the breath.
We succeeded only after ten minutes of complete silence and he was the one who stopped it. Not that it was heavy and unsustainable, indeed.
"Dr. Horan should go away more often." he uttered leaving me a light kiss on the collarbone.
"Yeah, he should." I whispered drawing, doodling on his shoulder with my fingers.
And in that moment, all that had just happened, it didn't seem wrong, on the contrary, I found it perfect.
Perfect as the sun after a rainy day.
Perfect as a smile after an hour of hysterical crying.
Perfect as a happy ending after the climax of a movie.
Perfect as a cold shower after a hard workout.
And then I stayed there to enjoy the moment, to feel alive and carefree because, after all, is the way it should be: me, a stranger named Harry and the best fuck of my life in a rehabilitation center.